Wait For Me
by alwayswritewithcoffee
Summary: She might be leaving, but it's always been her plan to come back. An 8x05 speculation fic. Minor spoilers for the episode.


_Minor spoilers for episode 8x05 'The Nose'; as gleaned from the second sneak peek. Speculation fic._

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The last box is stacked near the front door, one of a dozen of varying shapes and sizes. Seeing them there, all packed and ready for the movers intensifies that ache in her heart; brings back the steady prick of tears in her eyes.

When she had moved into this loft, Kate had been so sure that she would never leave. At least not without Castle by her side.

She put this off as long as she could, living out of a hotel until money had gotten tight and then camping out on the couch in her office. She had bunked with her dad for a few days, turned down Lanie's offer to stay with her because her friend would have used the time to dig further into what went wrong.

Kate just couldn't bear the scrutiny, not when nothing had gone wrong. Not with Castle, not with their marriage.

With her. With outside forces that could so easily take away everything she cares about.

Tugging her phone out of her pocket, she glances at the time, surprised that it's at least another 15 minutes before the movers are scheduled to arrive. It won't take long to load up her things, she had only packed the essentials in her clothing, some bedding and towels. Basic things that it would be wasteful to buy.

Her furniture that hadn't been sold or passed on to others already had been crammed into her sublet studio.

Blowing out a breath, Kate begins to wander around the loft, fingers trailing across the bookshelf that's now empty as she's removed her copies of Rick's books. His office is pristine, another mark towards her suspicion that her husband rarely spent time at home. The entire loft feels unlived in now, no dishes in the sink or the dishwasher, very little food in the fridge. None of the shifting of items or the disarray of paper and research for books that would usually be inside this room if Castle were hard at work.

She wonders if he's written at all, if she'll soon be subjected to a call from Gina requesting that she pin the man down and force him to complete his latest chapter.

How awkward will it be to explain that she and Castle no longer live together, that if Gina wants an update on his writing she'll have to call Alexis or his mother.

It hurts to think about it, though far less than the reality of knowing that once she leaves today there's no time frame for when she will be back.

If Rick even wants her back when it's all said and done.

The tears come of their own volition at that thought, spilling over her cheeks in a hot flow that makes her throat burn. He still wears his ring, he keeps telling her that he will win her back, make her fall in love with him because he's irresistible to her. And he's absolutely right in that because it's been so hard not to touch him, to avoid reaching out to skim her hands across his jaw or press her lips to his.

She is miserable. He's miserable, and she lives in terror that one day he will wake up and decide that she isn't worth his love or his time.

She's still crying when she steps behind Rick's desk, a collection of family photos displayed on top of the file cabinet. Among the silver frames is a new picture of the two of them, heads pressed together and soft smiles on their faces with the vivid backdrop of a Hamptons sunset.

Would he mind if she took it with her? Kate already has it in her hand, finger skimming across Castle's profile with that easy smile he'd given her on their wedding day. With a small sniff, she tugs her phone out again, opening her messaging application with the intention of shooting him a text to ask.

She won't take it if he says no. She's already broken his heart and his trust. Stealing a favorite photo would just add insult to injury.

"You can have it, if you want," Rick's voice is gentle when it washes over her, that broad frame standing in the doorway of his office in rolled up shirtsleeves and the jeans that are her favorite for how they frame his ass. He looks hollowed out, eyes dim and dark with pain, hair slightly askew with deep shadows painted under his eyes.

She recognizes a man who hasn't slept, who barely eats, and spends his days and nights in constant misery. It's the same reflection that she's seen in the mirror since she left.

All she can do at first is nod, distracting herself by closing the app with the unsent text and sliding her phone back into her pocket. "I'll bring it back," Kate promises, lifting her head to meet his eyes in the hope that he'll believe her.

Rick gives her one of those long, studying looks, eyes boring into her with such fervor that she wonders how he can't see right through her. Surely all of her secrets, all of her half truths and careful lies will come slithering out, eliminating some of the rift she's put between them. But he only shrugs at her, rocks back on his heels with a low sigh, "Will you?" he asks, such pain and disbelief in his voice that Kate feels her already fractured heart splinter into even smaller pieces.

She shouldn't promise him anything. She certainly has no right to open her mouth and reassure him of her intentions after all of this, but Kate does it anyway. Even if her voice is thick with tears, even if she's got the photo pressed so hard against her torso that she might shatter the glass, she opens her mouth and sets a bit of the truth free, "I love you, and I'm going to figure this out, Rick."

"Figure what out?" he asks, stepping into his office with a rush of steps, eyes sparking with emotion. He's a man on a mission, trying to sniff out the mystery that she's done her best to keep him away from.

In that one move, with that one look, she's sure that she's made the right choice. Kate loves him, but he will dig and push himself into an early grave if she gives him an inch.

Still, she won't lie to him. She won't place the blame at his feet and make him think that he's done something wrong that he should fix.

"Stuff," she hedges, stepping around the desk until she's standing a foot away from him. He's looking at her like she's both the most fascinating and most frustrating person on the planet, torn between wanting to kiss her and maybe shake her until her teeth rattle.

"Kate," he sighs at her, desperation flaring to life in his eyes. In their time apart he's never begged or pleaded with her, rarely shown anything but a dose of frustration and that blind optimism that he somehow unearthed in every situation. "Please, just tell me what I've done. I can't fix this if I don't know how to start."

Kate's breath expels in a rush, another rush of tears flooding her vision. She's shaking from the force of the blow, knees weak and hands shaky while she places the picture frame on his desk. "It's not you, babe," she chokes out, a vigorous shake of her head at him, "This is about me. This is what I've done, choices I've made. My faults and my shortcomings that I have to fix. This is on me. It's not you. It would never be you."

She shouldn't let him touch her, but she doesn't stop Rick when he steps forward, large hands framing her face, "We have a guest room," he blurts out, thumbs running across the shadows under her eyes to catch the tears that are still falling, "Why you can't just stay up there? I'll give you space. I'll give you whatever you want if you won't walk out that door again."

At that plea Kate cracks, the sob ripping out of her as her face crumples up with a third gush of tears. He's drawn her against his chest, wrapped his arms around her in an instant while her fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt, her face pressed into the space between his shoulder and neck. "I wish I could stay," she whispers, trembling against him as the dam overflows and all the grief, fear and worry floods out of her, "God, I wish it were that easy."

It's selfish to let him hold her while she cries, to comfort her with a hand sliding across her back. After all she's done, all she's put him through, Rick should be pushing her out the door, telling her to never come back and quite happy to see the end of her.

"I'm so sorry, Castle," she sniffs, tilting her head to press one soft kiss against his jaw. "I'm so sorry to do this to you, to us."

He's silent while she cries it out, cheek pillowed on top of her head and those large hands skimming up and down her spine. By the time she pulls away, there's a shine of moisture on his own cheeks, and Kate lifts her hand to swipe it away, rising up on her toes to brush her mouth against his. "You know that I love you."

"I do," Rick agrees, forehead nudging against hers, "But I can't do this forever, Beckett." He's soft with the words, hands again falling to skim across her torso until they land at the indention of her waist. "I love you, I'm willing to do a lot of things for you, but you belong here with me."

"It's not forever," she promises, a finger tracing along his bottom lip, "Every day I'm doing whatever I can to come back home. I'm coming back, so long as you want me."

He sighs at that, a long, deep breath that expands his chest until it brushes against her own. With one hand he tilts her head up, mouth descending onto hers for a slow, thorough kiss that leaves Kate's toes curling and arousal springing to life in her blood. "Katherine Beckett, I am always going to want you. That's never been in doubt."

"You'll always have me," Kate replies, skimming his cheek with her fingers as the knock sounds at the front door. The movers, no doubt. Here to load up her things and take her away from this man and put her life in limbo. "Never doubt that, Rick. Even if I'm not here, I'm still yours."

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 **A/N: If you are only going to "review" to complain about the show, or Beckett, or Castle. Don't bother. You will be deleted. There are avenues to express your frustration; fic reviews aren't one of them.**


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